Mirror, Mirror
by LightningsShadow118
Summary: After winning the Mirror of Onitachi, Jack unleashes a dark force that puts everyone's lives in danger, including Chase Young's.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Mirror, Mirror

**Author:** Lightnings-Shadow

**Pairings:** Mild/Implied Chack (Chase/Jack)

**Summary:** Some things in this world are best left undisturbed.

**WARNING:** There is death in this story; I hope you can handle it. There is, too, an implied MALE pairing. Keep in mind that this is only a _story;_ just like the death, it's not real. So don't go whining about how offensive my story is, _that you chose to read, even after this warning!_ If you don't read disclaimers and try passing that as a valid excuse for complaining, then douse yourself in cold water right now. Trolls will be shot on sight. Consider yourselves warned.

**Disclaimer:** The whole 'universe' used here, characters included, belongs to Christy Hui, creator of Xiaolin Showdown. As for the Mirror of Onitachi and it's demon... my own creation. I'm not making money off of this, nor do I want to.

...:...:...:...

**Prologue**

The air in Chase Young's Citadel was palpably tense.

Most of the cats chose to hide and watch from behind statues or pillars. The more daring ones watched him avidly in the open, tails dragging back and forth like furry pendulums.

Chase was on the meditation level of his home pacing back and forth. It was a simple enough act, but it intrigued and frightened his warriors because their master _never_ paced. He meditated, and it was as simple as that.

His eyes were on the ground, unfocused, one hand behind his back and the other at his lip. His stride was brisk and jerky, and his brows were furrowed over slitted eyes, pupils thin enough to be nonexistent.

If the felines didn't know any better, they'd think Master Chase was...

"Mmm," Chase hummed, but he said no more. His mind was working furiously.

_This is not good. This is not good at all. Of all the times for it to reveal itself... and of all the people to win it! Good lord, this is bad. Very, very bad. If anyone finds out that that mirror is the Mirror of Onitachi, I'll be dead before morning. Oh, Spicer, I pray to whatever deity can hear me that you are not a complete imbecile. Please say that you haven't removed the Mirror's cloth..._

Chase paused.

A few pairs of ears perked up at the sudden change.

He brought his back hand around and opened it, revealing a palm-size stone with a good sized hole clean through the center.

Chase's eye caught his own reflection in the marble floor. Just to sate the grain of curiosity, he held the stone between his thumb and middle finger and peered through the hole. His reflection, seen through the stone's hole, was that of his _reptilian_ form holding the Shen Gong Wu up to one large, narrowed eye.

"Hmm..."

Chase let the Stone slide back into his palm. He stared at it for a while as his cats started raising their heads. Their lord had a decision to make, and they knew it.

Steal the Mirror, warn Jack, or trust him.

Chase could not steal it. No matter how dangerous the Mirror was, Spicer had won the Wu, and he'd won it fair. To steal it, especially so soon after losing it, would be dishonorable. Not to mention how much of a sore loser it would make him out to be.

Warning Spicer of the Mirror's dangerous power was probably also unwise. Should Wuya or the monks corner him, Jack would tell them anything they wanted to know if it kept him from getting bludgeoned (though knowing the monks these days, they would likely bludgeon him anyway).

He could always tell Jack to keep the Mirror locked away without mentioning exactly why. Jack wouldn't ask what for, obedient thing he was, and he was bound to have a safe or five in that mansion, what with his parents dripping in money and all. Ah, but no; Spicer was obedient, yes, but also highly curious. It would be only a matter of time before his need to know would get the better of him, and... well, that was simply unacceptable.

There was no trusting Jack to leave the mirror be. Just as before, he was a curious youth, _and_ in possession of a new Wu. When one has new toys to play with, who _won't_ poke around? Jack wouldn't be smart enough—no, no, not _sensible_ enough – to consider the repercussions of leaping before looking.

Which left Chase with only one alternative. He would have to approach Jack himself and re-challenge him for the Mirror.


	2. Awakening

**Part One: Awakening**

The landscape faded from Spicer's vision as he flew away from the monks, Wuya, and Chase Young. That showdown had been a _bitch_ to win, but damn it all, he'd won it! And this mirror Wu, whatever it did, was only the first of many wins to come.

Pride-filled thoughts floated through Jack's smug mind as he flew, until Chase came back into his mind. His idol had been trying to win the showdown just like the rest of them, but his manner had been different with this one. Instead of sneering immediately after Jack grabbed the Wu with him, Chase's snake-like eyes, for a fleeting moment, had widened slightly, dilated in a way that seemed more apprehensive than loathsome. Even more odd was that, when Jack actually won, Chase looked as though he'd lost something close to him.

Jack couldn't understand it. Was this Shen-Gong-Wu powerful? His Wu identifier certainly hadn't been able to tell; that was another abnormality.

Oh, it didn't matter. A Wu was a Wu, and that was good enough for Spicer.

Hours later, Jack touched down on the roof of his home and took the stairs straight down to his Lair. He promptly propped the giant, veiled mirror up on a chair. Removing his Heli-bot, he sighed heavily, leaned against the wall, and ran his hands over his greasy, red hair.

After a few minutes of letting his bones settle, Jack finally trudged over and knelt down to the mysterious Wu.

The cloth covering it was crimson silk, and touching it, Jack's nerves tingled and shivered. It was clear that the cloth was laced with some pretty heavy magic. It never occurred to Jack to wonder why.

Eager and excited now, Spicer carefully pulled the cover up and off the mirror.

His own red eyes gazed back expectantly. Jack then realized; he hadn't a clue what this thing was called. That was another thing his identifier hadn't been able to pull up. _Well, screw,_ the goth thought. _How the hell do I use it now!_

Jack noted how the glass was tinted black. _Not that unusual,_ Jack supposed. _Maybe it lets you communicate with the dead._

Jack then saw how mussed his hair was from the fly back home. He grimaced and ran his fingers through it a couple times more to–

He froze. Had he... had he _seen_ right? Did his reflection just... no, it couldn't have. Jack was tired from the showdown; he was seeing things.

Spicer locked eyes with his reflection for a while, very suspicious. It eyed him back, equally suspicious.

He sighed and absent-mindedly stroked his fingers near the mirror-image's head. He'd have to run a test or three to find out what was up with this mirror, but it could wait until morning. He was exhausted, and no doubt going to be _really_ sore tomor–

No. He wasn't going crazy. Jack was _sure_ he'd seen his reflection smirk. He'd _seen_ it that time.

His fingers lifted from the chilly surface just enough. He leered into the mirror.

"What are you," he demanded.

The reflection narrowed its eyes and grinned.

Spicer balked, gaped, and watched as its eyes grew darker and darker until it looked like an empty black light had consumed its eyes completely.

The reflected hand closest to the surface suddenly lashed _out_ of the mirror and grabbed Jack's wrist.

Jack choked in pure horror. It looked like his own hand, right down to the chipped nails, but it was cold; too cold to be alive. He struggled, tugged his arm furiously, _tried_ to grapple and pull away, tried in his frozen state to free himself and run like the coward he was. The impostor's grip, however, was unmerciful.

Then, it pulled.

A wail tore from Spicer's throat when his skin glided through the glass; he cringed as he fell _through_ instead of hitting solid matter. Bitter, bone-deep cold soaked through his trench coat and gripped his lungs. He barely remembered feeling himself hit a flat surface, but his head was spinning so fast that nothing fully registered.

A ghastly cackle snapped his mind straight, but just quick enough for Jack to turn and watch the... the _thing_ slide through to the other side; _his_ side.

Dazed and freezing as he was, the human youth forced himself onto all shaky fours and scrambled to the mirror-sized window, grappling and fingering at the now-solid gateway. The creature wearing Jack's face turned to him and laughed.

Jack whimpered as tears welled up, streaking his eyeliner. Where was he! What was going on! What was that _thing_ doing with his blackened face and body? Why did things always have to happen to _him!_

The sinister, eyeless creature grinned at Jack again, revealing a set of needle-like teeth that made Spicer shriek and recoil. It frowned and quirked a stolen brow at Jack's gaping mouth, then it bore its teeth again; this time looking at the mirror and not at the boy inside. Spicer stared, fear mixing with fascination, as the angler-like teeth shrunk and widened to match his own yellowed, uneven set.

It clamped the new maw a few times, clenched the teeth, tested their accuracy, and smiled.

"t_H_**e**_rE __N_O**w**.**.**. **M**_u__C_h b_e_**T**_**t**_Er._._**.**"

Jack squeaked. That did _not_ sound right.

The creature lashed a gloved hand back in and yanked his model up by the hair, brushing off the pained squawk and human hands the tried to pry his head free. It forced Jack's head back into a very uncomfortable angle and held him still while the thing examined him. Spicer's eyes wanted to snap shut and cry _so_ badly right now, but his body refused to do anything but shiver.

As it looked at Jack through the blackness where eyes should've been, hazy, blurred colors began to seep through. The blurriness seemed to sharpen as the color emerged, almost like a polaroid photo.

It felt like forever to Jack, who was, by now, sobbing his heart out. The cold, the confusion, the pain, the fear; it was too much at once.

Eventually, the black was cleared; the creature wore Jack's exact albino eyes. It blinked, testing them, and smirked. When it spoke this time, Spicer heard his own voice.

"I must thank you for removing that cloth, my friend. God only knows how long it has trapped me."

Jack wheezed, grappling at the arm that still clutched his hair. "Wh-hhhuu... What are you!"

It threw its head back in a demonic laugh, and it made Jack wish to any deity that could hear him for death.

"Do you not recognize me? I am Jack Spicer! Evil Boy Genius!"

A flick of the wrist threw Jack back onto the prison floor without shame or mercy. Spicer collapsed, then fumbled, tried to move, but the frosty air had set in and saturated his joints; no muscle could move quick enough, no ligament would stretch far enough.

The only light that shone was the mirror-window, and soon the crimson silk was lowered back over that, cutting the void off completely.

Thundering silence. Tar-like blackness.

Jack, cold and panicky, shivered as he huddled his legs close. His eyes darted every which-way as he whimpered like a little kid. If there were any thoughts... no, there weren't real thoughts. All he could see was the haunting image of all those teeth grinning at him hungrily. All he could hear was the echo of its sadistic cackle. All he could think about was the truth.

_No one's gonna find me. No one's gonna save me. I'm gonna die here, and no one will ever know._

_Nobody will even care._

Jack Spicer's eyes closed and his forehead touched his knees. He let the tears flow.

...—...—...

The Mirror Demon cautiously used two nearby metal rods to lower the bewitched silk back over his prison. A wisp of the cloth barely grazed its leg, making it jump back and hiss like an angry cat. _Satan's tail!_ it thought, _Just how many spells did Dashi soak that thing with!_

"... Well..." it spoke in Jack's voice, "I suppose he would _have_ to if Ch—"

**"Master Jack."**

It jumped and spun around, flinging the rods in its surprise. The Jack-bot easily caught both, as if this reaction had been expected.

The Mirror Demon scowled. "What is it?"

**"Wuya, sir."**

'Jack' blinked, checking the human's Memories for the name and any feelings about it.

"Ah... what about her?"

**"She wishes to speak to you, sir."**

Another contemplative pause. "... She... is requesting it?"

**"She is demanding it, sir, but we are not allowing her in."**

"I see..." It eventually nodded. "Let her in."

The Jack-bot beeped and nodded its head. **"Yes, sir."**

Once the synthetic servant was gone, the Demon hissed again at one particular Memory and began pacing.

"_Wuya!_ How could this human have _done_ such a foolish thing! Myself, I can understand, but _her!_ How could this human's father have found her box–"

"What _are_ you babbling on about, Jack?"

_That was quick._ It looked up and met the witch's emerald gaze. She smirked down at 'him' and strode over to the worktable to have a seat.

"So, my dear boy, you've won a showdown all by yourself." She was blatantly mocking him, but 'Jack' simply crossed his arms and smirked without a care.

"Yes, I did, which is far more than can be said for _you,_ Wuya."

"Oh _please._" The witch rolled her eyes. "As if the Mirror of Onitachi was really _worth_ the effort."

Its smirk deepened. "If it's so worthless, then why are you here?"

She paused, leered, looked him up and down several times. It realized that Jack Spicer reacted to these things. It ever-so-slightly fidgeted.

That had been what Wuya was looking for. She smirked and leaned a bit closer.

"I wanted to see if _you_ knew its purpose." She spoke frankly, "The _monks_ certainly didn't know what they were fighting for."

"And you did?"

A pause.

It smiled and turned its back on her, walking to the mirror. "I knew it. You're trapped in the dark, just like the rest of us."

"So you _don't_ know?"

"I've... made a few guesses..." it dodged carefully.

Wuya didn't care about guesses, though. "If you don't know, the why not unveil it and find out?"

"Not yet. There could be something... _dangerous_ about this mirror, you know?" The Mirror Demon tried not to smirk.

Wuya raised a carefully-plucked eyebrow at Jack's oddly-worded speculation, but her sixth sense began acting up before she could ask further. Jack's Wu siren quickly joined in.

The look-alike sprang up, Memories recognizing the siren's meaning. It grabbed for the Heli-bot and fumbled to strap it on, then spared Wuya one last mischievous grin.

"I'll see you at the Showdown, _Wuya._"

She watched her former right hand stride away, then did a double-take. The boy's movement was... off. She couldn't place what exactly, but there was something different about the way he walked; something confident. It was as if he thought he possessed some destructive power, and actually _had_ the power to back it up.

Then, Jack was out of sight.

The witch briefly considered following him; considered for a fleeting moment joining the encounter to come and investigating what the gait could mean.

Her greedy eyes, however, found the Mirror of Onitachi first.

I*~*I-I*~*I

Dojo slithered through the skies, a tad annoyed with his bickering passengers.

The Fire Dragon shook. "No, I'm _telling_ you guys; _I'm_ gonna fight Jack this time, and I _won't_ let him win!"

Raimundo grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to still her. "Kimiko, would you chill already! It was just a damn mirror. It wasn't in the Scroll, Dojo didn't recognize it; hell, even Master Fung didn't know what it could've been. It was probably useless."

"He's got a point, there," Dojo agreed in an attempt to end the fight quickly, "Dashi usually only logged the Shen-Gong-Wu that were useful. If it wasn't in the Scroll, it probably doesn't matter."

"What about the Ants in the Pants there, Dojo? I don't reckon that 'uns much a help, 'sides a little distractin'," Clay said.

Dojo laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well... y'see Clay, Dashi was a real prank master back in the good ol' days, and..."

Kimiko ground her teeth. "That's not the _point,_ though! Don't you get it? Jack _won._ We lost to the lowest threat on this side of the cosmos! We lost to _Jack Spicer!_"

Omi rested a small hand on her knee. "Kimiko, you should not let your anger cloud your focus. While it is true that Jack Spicer is a most unskilled member of the Heylin side, we must not let ourselves be taken to a distant place."

Confused silence. Omi looked at his friends, ignorant of what he'd said.

Raimundo then spoke. "I'm just gonna take a wild guess here, Omi... 'let's not get carried away'?"

The youngest blushed. "Oh yes, that is what I meant."

"Omi, if by getting 'carried away', you mean 'kill him'," Kimiko answered, "You can relax. But I _will_ teach him a lesson in pyro-mechanics!"

Raimundo scoffed. "Really, Kimiko? Really?"

"Buckle up, kiddos; we're almost there," Dojo announced to the group, and descended from the clouds.

Clay peered down at the American city. "Where exactly are we, Dojo?"

"Judging by the air, Florida!"

The green dragon began shrinking, his resting place of choice atop Omi's head. "If I'm not mistaken, the Hole in the Stone _should_ be... in there."

Scaly fingers indicated a tall museum. It had a pseudo-Asian style to its architecture, clad in burgundies and vanillas and a pagoda-style roof.

"Stereotypes at their finest," Raimundo muttered, and then rolled his eyes. "I _hate_ museums."

The five entered the giant building and shivered at how low the AC was set. They paid the entrance fee together, then began hunting. The Wu was likely one of the featured artifacts, so they called no attention to themselves in examining each exhibit.

Time crawled by, and while some exhibits were interesting, the four had nothing to show for their search.

Omi finally stopped on the first floor and scratched his head, while careful of Dojo. "I am _most_ confused. Are you sure it is here, Dojo?"

He poked his head down between Omi's eyes. "I'm positive! But every time I feel like we're getting warmer, we start getting... colder... again."

A curator nearby noticed the youth's distress and approached. "Is there something I can help you with, young man?"

Omi blinked, then flashed his brightest smile and bowed. "Oh, yes madam! I am looking for a Shen–" he paused, remembering that not everyone knew about the Shen-Gong-Wu, "Eh... a very peculiar stone. You see, it has a hole in the middle, and I–"

Her face lit up. "Oh! You're looking for the section on Artifacts. It's on the top floor, hon."

Omi bowed. "Thank you very much, kind lady."

But she didn't let him leave just yet. "Are you with someone?"

"Oh yes, madam. Myself and three others are looking for this stone as well."

"Ah," She smiled. "Because another young man came asking about the same exhibit. Tall, skinny, pale face, red hair—"

Omi's eyes widened. He was gone before the curator could finish.

Up the stairs he flew, Dojo hanging on by an ear. "Whoa, sport, slow down!"

"No! There is no time to be slowing down! Jack Spicer is here!"

The Water Dragon hit the landing and darted into the large room housing the main exhibit. He jumped with some effort to peek in each glass box, disturbing and confusing many visitors, until he finally found one labeled 'Ancient Chinese Seeing Stone'.

The box was empty.

A wicked cackle made Omi whirl around to meet Jack face-to-face. The youth's expression was aghast, but soon determined.

"Jack Spicer, surrender the Hole in the Stone at once!"

His smirk remained. "Or what? I 'suffer a most humiliating defeat'?" He mocked with Omi's accent, "Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. I've already bested your friends once; who's to say I won't do it again?"

Nearly everyone browsing the exhibit was staring at them.

Omi's beady eyes narrowed. "You may have defeated my friends, but you will _not_ defeat me!"

His Chi-markings glowed just before he launched a blast of water — a precise, focused blast, so that he'd hit Jack and not any bystanders.

But Jack simply closed his eyes and slid aside, letting the jet shatter a distant window instead.

A cheshire grin played at his lips. "Steeeee-rike one!"

Omi mouth dropped open. That wasn't fair! Jack could not just step aside like that! There was supposed to be flipping, and deflecting, and other things Jack Spicer could not do!

Dojo shook the monk from his hissy-fit. "Omi, pal, we _might_ wanna save the attacks for when we're not surrounded by people."

Omi was then aware of civilians shrieking and running for the elevators and stairs.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, _and_ maybe after you, oh, I dunno, _know_ I even _have_ the damned thing."

This statement gave Omi pause. He hadn't seen Jack take the Stone, and Jack wasn't holding it...

"But... if you do not have it, then who–"

"Ah, ah, ah," Spicer wagged his finger. "I never said I had it, but I never said I _didn't_ have it, either."

"Enough playing of the games, Jack Spicer!" He slid into a fighting stance. "Where is the Hole in the Stone!"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know," he sneered.

Raimundo and Kimiko emerged from the stairs just then, breathless. "Dude, Omi... we saw glass fall from... outside the windows, and..."

They noticed Jack just then, who had the gall to laugh at them. "Let me get this straight: you guys can kick my butt eight ways to Sunday and not slow down for a second, but a few flights of stairs and you're out of breath? Really!"

A swift punch to the stomach knocked the humor right out of him. Jack hunched with a yelp, stumbled back, and crashed into a wall. He cried again when Tohomiko grabbed his trench coat collar in both hands and yanked him so he was level with her intimidating eyes.

"Listen up, _Jack-off,_" she hissed, "We can do this easy, or we can do this hard. Give us the Stone, and you can keep your spine. Sound fair enough?"

Jack wheezed, "I don't... _have_ the Stone..."

An even harder fist to the jaw. Raimundo and Omi, entertained by the sight at first, cringed when they heard a loud crack they _knew_ shouldn't have sounded.

Raimundo hesitated. "... uh, Kim?"

"_Shut it, Rai!_" she spat at him. He shrank back.

Her attention was back on Jack. "You think I was born _yesterday,_ Fag-alicious! _Where. Is. The Stone!_"

Jack grunted, made a face like he'd tasted something bitter, and spat red onto the floor.

"I told you, it's not with me. Check my pockets."

He didn't wait for her and turned them inside out. Nothing.

She brushed the gesture off. "So one of your Jack-Bots took it back to your stupid Lair! Don't think we won't steal it back!"

Jack panted with angry eyes and chose not to mention how they couldn't steal back something that was never theirs to begin with. Instead, he rasped, "Chuh... Chase has it."

That caught Omi's attention. "Chase Young has already been here!"

"He _can_ teleport, you know," the albino remarked.

Kimiko, by this point, was livid. "_Goddamn it!_"

She threw Jack across the room with no effort at all. He plowed through at least three glass exhibit cases before hitting the wall like a rag doll.

Raimundo balked. "Dang, Kimiko! PMS much!"

A thundering came from the stairs, turning all heads (except Jack's) to Clay as he emerged. He wasn't out of breath at all.

"I heard screamin'; 'D y'all find th-... the... oh, _dang_..." The Texan trailed off, noticing an unmoving Jack buried in glass shards.

Kimiko huffed at him, and Clay couldn't help flashing back to Papa's ranch. He half-expected her to charge at him.

"_NO,_ we don't have the Wu!" She snarled. "Damnit, _Chase_ has it."

Clay lowered his gaze, a bit afraid to say anything for fear of getting mauled. His papa had taught him; 'Hell hath no fury like an angry woman.'

Kimiko growled and huffed, stomping back and forth in a silent fit. Somebody somewhere had to be laughing at her. Just, _fuck life_ already.

The boys chose to stay quiet and let her burn it off in lieu of having their balls ripped off. The wait was surprisingly short.

She turned to them in an aggravated huff. "Let's get out of here already. I need some ice cream, like, STAT."

Raimundo and Omi nodded their heads immediately and made for the stairs. Clay hesitated.

"Er, guys? Don'cha think we ought t'a... y'know, get Jack some _help_ an' whatnot?"

Kimiko raised an eyebrow. "Why would we wanna do that, Clay?"

"W'll, I dunno, it's jes'..." Clay rubbed his hands, then glanced back at the dark figure embedded in glass and wood. "He's not movin'."

"He's probably just passed out is all," Raimundo offered, casting Kimiko a cautious glance. "I'm sure someone'll find him soon enough, right?"

Clay frowned. Despite his gut feeling, however, he descended with the others.

Then, all was quiet.

Minutes passed before Jack groaned and moved. He was in pain, _so_ much pain, but he had to stand up. With some effort and help from the wall, he did.

The creature spat blood onto the floor — black blood that appeared red to a mortal's eyes.

"Those are the Xiaolin Warriors?" He murmured.

He shook its arms as if they were covered in mud. The dozens of glass shards wedged into his trench coat and flesh fell free with an ethereal ease. He then reached up to remove one particularly large piece embedded in his cheek. The gash left behind swelled, rippled, and healed completely.

Jack glanced at the stairs and chuckled. "The Xiaolin have fallen far since Dashi's generation! Ha ha, how excellent!"

He adjusted his would-be broken jaw carefully, wincing. "That Fire Dragon packs quite the punch, too."

He stopped short suddenly and listened. Footsteps were coming from around the corner and on the stairs. _Mortals._

Spicer backed against the wall, eyeing the stairs. He splayed his gloved, bleeding, albino hands against the scratched-up wallpaper and let his body detect the nearest Shadows. He didn't _like_ using the Shadows as a getaway because it meant giving up his victim's eyes, but he didn't have much of a choice here.

His hands evaporated into an inky black smoke, and then fused with the wall as he became part of the Shadows. The rest of his body slipped in after. As the mortals approached, Spicer skittered away along the walls, ceilings, and floors, completely undetected.


End file.
